Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal

By Forthright

She wasn’t aware of her gift’s significance, yet he expects to be courted.

Kimiko enrolls at the In-between’s prestigious new high school, which is designed to promote the integration of the human and inhuman races. As a reaver, she’s supposed to act as peacemaker, bridging a formidable cu

• Language: English
• Publisher: Twinkle Press
• Release date: Oct 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781631230622

Book preview

because I like to make you wonder

Amaranthine Saga, Book 2

Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal

Copyright © 2018 by FORTHRIGHT

FORTHWRITES.COM

ISBN: 978-1-63123-062-2

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or shared in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the author. Which is a slightly more officious way of saying what I’ve always asked. Play fair. Be nice. But by all means, have fun! ::twinkle::

TWINKLE PRESS

Table of Contents

Runt

The Starmark Tribute

Middle Sister

Kikusawa Shrine

Class 3C

Forming a Triad

Panic Attack

One Shy

Straggler

Birds and Brooding

Coping Mechanisms

Show of Trust

Double Escort

Local Legends

Brave Face

Compound

Sealed Boy

Laud and Ever

Star Festival

Starry Gifts

Heirloom

Suitor

Unsettling News

Lady’s Choice

Rally Around

Long into the Night

A Private Word on Short Notice

Inestimable Value

Transfer Student

Sense

Goh-sensei

Fourth Anniversary

That Radish-Man

Dynamic Entry

Cloak and Dagger

Poor Boon

Papka

Her Pursuit

Star Wine Serenades

Guest List

Reliquary

Ever’s Mum

To See, To Hear, To Know

Torn

Temptation

Rooftops

Shambles

Pocket Enclave

Return of the Saint

Glimmer

A True Son

Reasons

Flashbulbs

Something Blue

ONE

Runt

Eloquence’s resolve wavered. Rumbles of rowdy good humor drifted across the ice-bitten garden, which meant Dad was busy. Too busy for a son’s petty grievances and injured pride. But he had to try, for Ever’s sake if not his own. And soon. Time was as short as the fading day. The winter solstice had slipped past, and the New Year was fast approaching. Tonight, then, he promised himself. Provided they don’t crack a second cask of star wine.

He tested the air for telltale scents. Today’s guests were a blend he knew well enough—wolf, cat, fox, and dragon. A meeting of the Five.

Over the past few decades, Eloquence had grown accustomed to the comings and goings of his father’s assorted friends. Few Amaranthine mingled outside their clans except to establish an enclave or cooperative, but Harmonious Starmark wasn’t one to enforce boundary lines. Dad had never liked barriers.

Giving up, Eloquence turned toward the pavilion he shared with his younger brothers and all but ran into an elder one. Sly dog.

What’s with the glare, runt? Prospect’s perpetual grin widened. You always used to like our little games.

"When I was a pup." Eloquence ducked out from under his brother’s heavy arm. Quen was no longer the youngest Starmark, but that didn’t stop his three older brothers from reminding him of his place within the pack. This amounted to a whole lot of tussling and teasing, with an ego-wrecking range of embarrassing stories thrown in for good measure.

Not my fault you’re too lazy to mark corners. Prospect mussed his hair, irreparably loosening Eloquence’s heavy, auburn braid. What would Uncle Laud say?

That a downwind approach is as rude inside the den as out.

Granted. Prospect’s copper eyes sparkled. "But seriously, Quen. You should make some effort. I’m not the only one on the prowl."

Journalists wouldn’t dare. Not after the last time.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. But speaking of pups, I’ll loan you mine.

All this while, Prospect had been carelessly cradling a dozing newborn, his third child. Swaddled in a blanket lavishly embroidered with copper ribbon rosettes, she fit neatly in the crook of his arm.

If your bondmate put you on baby duty, who am I to interfere? But Eloquence was already reaching for the newest member of the Starmark clan. It wasn’t little Clarion’s fault that her dad couldn’t tune his instrument with a little one hobbling his hands. Dad asked for you?

Yes, though his message implied popular demand. Prospect stooped to stroke his daughter’s cheek. Star wine tastes better with an accompaniment.

I don’t mind. This was both trust and a treat. Lyric and Lavish are always so quick to carry her off, Ever and I barely get a turn. Rise even grumbles.

"Further proof she’s my girl. We’re both in high demand. Prospect’s gloating smile faded, and his tone took a turn toward the serious. I heard you’re to be recognized soon. That’s good. You’ve waited long enough."

Eloquence could feel embarrassment burn into the tips of his ears. There was a reason his brothers had nicknamed him runt.

On the day he was born, his mother had died. No one would give him any details, but according to the pack’s songs and stories, Aurora Starmark had clung to life long enough to protect his passage into the world. She could no longer run with them, but her strength had not gone from the pack. Her influence lingered. Many of Quen’s sisters had her daintier chin and fine brows. And there were subtler legacies—quick wits, quiet manners, and a fondness for stringed instruments.

For whatever reason, Eloquence had always been small for his age. Standing tall, he barely reached his brothers’ shoulders, but his hands and feet were large enough to suggest that he hadn’t yet reached his full growth. And so Dad kept putting off his attainment, waiting for him to grow into his paws.

I’ve been old enough for a long time now, Eloquence said stiffly. He was nearly twice the age Valor had been when the pack recognized his next-older brother as an adult.

Everyone knows it. For once, Prospect didn’t tease. You know, Anna’s the one who put her foot down.

Eloquence had no doubt that had been a lively conversation. And his step-mother’s bark was nothing compared to her bite. I’ll be sure to thank her.

With a final brush of knuckles across his daughter’s fuzz of auburn hair, Prospect said, I need to go.

You know where to find us.

His brother stalled long enough to press a kiss to Clarion’s forehead. A good sign that his heart was in the right place. But then he grinned and kissed Eloquence’s forehead as if he were a half-weaned nuzzler again.

Quen felt fully justified in delivering a parting kick to Prospect’s shin.

Fussing with Clarion’s blanket, he meandered slowly toward his rooms, a sway to his steps.

Across the way, his brother was already tuning his instrument. Low notes quickly ascended in a glissade that led seamlessly into a sprightly tune more suited to dancing than drinking. Quen flowed through the steps of one of the walking dances that would be part of this little one’s whelping feast.

Clarion opened her eyes, and he chuckled. Do you hear your sire? He plays for you.

She squeaked and squirmed. Only then did Eloquence notice the source of her dismay, a figure standing quietly at the end of the porch. Watching him. And probably waiting on him.

With a soothing rumble, Eloquence strolled on. Good nose, little one. You found a stranger, but he’s a friend to this pack. Trust your Uncle Quen.

Her answering gurgle put a smile on his face. And a pang in the secret places of his heart. Prospect was so lucky.

At the moment, all Eloquence could claim was a vague sense of being cornered. But he covered his surprise, tossing off a casual gesture of welcome and peace. Good day, Spokesperson Twineshaft.

TWO

The Starmark Tribute

Or good evening, if you prefer, Eloquence continued. The deepening blue of the sky would soon be showing stars. He drew up before the spokesperson for the cat clans. My brother may hold out hope that Clarion will inherit his talent for music, but I think she shows a tracker’s instinct.

My apologies for disturbing your dance partner. Whatever her path, I am sure she will be a credit to her den. Hisoka offered a finger, which Clarion promptly grasped and gummed. I was hoping to meet you, Eloquence. Can you spare a few minutes?

He dipped his head. It was only polite … and probably a great honor. But Quen was a little wary of Hisoka’s pleasantries. They often led to suggestions that were more like requests, which could be taken as commands, and always—always—demanded a great deal of effort to see through. Like the time the cat had suggested Harmonious learn Spanish. So of course Dad made sure the whole pack was fluent.

I wanted to personally thank you for agreeing to join the inaugural class at New Saga High School. I’ll rest much easier knowing you’re involved.

In point of fact, Eloquence hadn’t agreed; Dad had volunteered him. And if his father had been able to spare the time this evening, Quen had planned to argue his way out of the commitment. Hisoka probably knew, or at least guessed as much. So Quen filed his grievance at the source. I’m too old for this.

But you look the part.

Hardly a compliment. I’ve waited for attainment longer than anyone. That’s embarrassing enough without being pushed into a group of human children. Bitterness sharpened his words. They’ll assume I’m like them.

Yes, they will. Hisoka’s hand settled on his shoulder. I would have thought you’d appreciate the respite, given the usual round of social obligations triggered by a young male’s advancement.

Eloquence’s eyes stung. He couldn’t tell if the cat was being coy or if he was truly ignorant. Since all of Quen’s older sisters were bonded and building dens of their own, it was possible that Hisoka hadn’t realized he had nine older siblings. I will be spared. I am the Starmark clan’s tribute.

Yes.

So he did know. Then why…? Emotion cracked his voice in an embarrassingly adolescent manner, and his face burned. The more he insisted he was an adult, the more childish he sounded.

Hisoka eased even closer and carefully took Eloquence’s hand, the one that wasn’t supporting Clarion. This has been an awkward season for you—not quite full-grown, yet full of years. I’m glad your father will finally acknowledge your maturity.

Eloquence nodded jerkily, but he kept his gaze fixed on his niece’s face. She’d drifted back to sleep after Hisoka reclaimed his finger.

I do believe you’ll find common ground with the humans in your class. In one year, they’ll graduate, but they don’t really know what they want, let alone how to achieve it. And they’re under a lot of pressure to make the right choice, to distinguish themselves, to succeed. Except most of them really only feel trapped and confused.

Are you saying that’s how I feel?

I am saying that this is the usual state of mind for those who stand between adolescence and adulthood.

Irritation flashed so hotly, it was a good thing Eloquence was holding a baby. He forced himself to stay calm lest his spoiling mood rouse her. But even the fact that he was shorter than Hisoka was becoming a source of frustration. Why did the cat know all his sore spots?

While I want Dad’s blessing, I don’t need it to know that I left childhood behind long ago. His chin lifted. What is the median age of your Amaranthine volunteers?

Hisoka’s gaze never wavered. All of our student representatives have passed but are close to the two-century mark.

And how many have reached their attainment?

A slight hesitation, a wry smile. Nearly all.

Am I your only straggler?

Yes.

I have three-hundred and eighty-three years, he said wearily. Look to my nieces and nephews for a Starmark representative. I know my place, and it is here.

None of your packmates have the qualities I require.

And suddenly, Eloquence noticed that Hisoka wasn’t simply holding his hand, he was gently kneading his palm. A soothing gesture, to be sure, but focused on the calluses he’d developed through long years of training with Uncle Laud and with Uncle Karoo-ren.

"You need a tribute? He’d overheard snatches of concerned conversations here and there, but maybe he shouldn’t jump to conclusions. There were many tasks given to a tenth child. Because you need someone to speak for our Kith?"

Hisoka gestured to the negative.

Which really only left one sobering possibility. You expect trouble.

Expectation and preparation are certainly part of my job description. His smile was bland. Didn’t I mention how much easier I’ll rest knowing you’re at New Saga? I’m sure I did.

[LINE]

Eloquence mounted the steps to the pavilion that had been his home ever since Dad had given him over to Uncle Laud for training. He eased through the door. In the corner, a large dog raised his head, copper eyes catching the light.

Rise’s tail thumped against tatami. Welcome back.

He grunted an acknowledgment as he toed out of his boots and wriggled free of his socks. How’s Ever?

Peaceful.

The Kith curled protectively around Quen’s greatest responsibility. Sure, Ever still spent much of his day with Mother, but he slept here. And that made this his den. Because even before Ever was weaned, Dad had settled matters. Eloquence was Ever’s big brother, babysitter, and bodyguard. They belonged to each other in much the way Eloquence belonged to Uncle Laud. A fosterling.

Did he change his mind?

Eloquence leaned into the big auburn dog’s flank and slid to the floor. It’s no use. I have to go.

Rise whined sympathetically.

Stroking his baby brother’s silky hair, Quen gently tugged at a pointed puppy ear. Wake up, little brother. I brought you a baby.

The ear flickered, and Ever’s head popped up, nose already twitching. Clare!

Yes, Clarion is here. He patted a place at his side. Uncle Prospect needs us to protect her while he plays music.

The boy crawled closer. Baby, he crooned. Ours?

Yes, she’s our packmate. As the boy gave her blanket an experimental poke, Quen murmured, Gently, Ever. Mind your claws.

I mind, he promised.

Born the same year as the Emergence, Ever Starmark was the most famous hybrid on the planet. His mother, Dad’s second bondmate, was human, and Ever’s very existence was considered proof that peace wasn’t just possible, it offered new possibilities for the human and inhuman races.

Eloquence slouched into Rise and smiled at Ever’s shifting expression. He knew every quirk and dip of those auburn ears, the swirl of emotion through shining eyes, and the eager thump of his stubby tail. If Quen was completely honest, Ever was the main reason he’d dragged his feet about enrollment. He couldn’t exactly bring a three-year-old to class.

How was he supposed to explain high school to Ever?

I don’t have a choice, he whispered.

The Kith nosed the top of his head and licked his ear. I will be here.

Thanks. Eloquence tangled his fingers in Rise’s fur. I’ll be counting on you.

But Quen’s frown deepened. Because Hisoka’s subtle request had definitely carried the weight of a command. And although Eloquence had never attended any kind of school, he’d known students, seen textbooks, and heard enough grievances about homework to strongly suspect that his immediate future would require large amounts of effort.

And quite possibly danger.

THREE

Middle Sister

Kimiko joined the flow of people entering the subway’s rear car and dropped gratefully onto an open seat. Her trek through the crowded shopping district had been worthwhile, but exhausting. Every housewife in Keishi must be doing last-minute errands before New Year’s Eve.

Settling her bags between her feet, she draped her forearms over her knees and peered toward the back. At first, she couldn’t see past the incoming passengers, but once they sorted into their seats, she had a clear view of the train’s security post. Usually, these were manned by an officer and their Kith partner, and she loved catching the eye of these sentient animals.

Today was a little different. No, a lot different.

Her curious gaze locked with the alert yellow eyes of an Amaranthine male. Clan was obvious. Even with the concession he’d made by donning the starched shirt and pleated pants worn by security officers, his long hair was held back by a furry headband, and the top two buttons of his shift were undone, revealing a colorful collection of beaded necklaces. Definitely a wolf. Maybe even an Elderbough tracker. She couldn’t see which crest he wore on his armband.

His eyebrows lifted, and a faint smile touched his lips.

Whoops. Kimiko quickly offered a series of silent messages—embarrassed apology, one of the warmer greetings, the hope for peace, and sincere gratitude for the protection his presence offered. People around her probably didn’t even notice. Amaranthine communication wasn’t like human sign language, which depended heavily on hand gestures. Their expressions were often subtler, relying on nuances of posture.

Those yellow eyes took on an appreciative shine, and he responded in kind—surprised delight, acknowledgement of her reaver status, a promise of harmony. And after a moment’s pause, a wholly unnecessary—and intensely personal—compliment on the sweetness of her soul.

Which was really very kind, but Kimiko didn’t let it go to her head. It was practically the only nice thing he could have said, given her low rating. But it was still nice to hear, and she flashed him a smile.

A twittering giggle snagged her attention, and she tuned in to a whispered argument across the aisle.

"No, you ask him."

"You’re the one who’s curious."

Shhh!

Kimiko turned, and two high school girls were suddenly fascinated by their phones. This again? She scratched the side of her face and glanced sheepishly back at the wolf.

He was laughing at her. Or them. Or maybe this whole silly situation. Any Amaranthine—with their keener senses—could detect something as basic as gender. With discreet gestures, the wolf called the human girls blind, he complimented Kimiko’s skill as a trickster, and he declared the advantage hers.

Another kindness. But really, she didn’t need cheering up. It happened all the time. If it had bothered her, she could have changed her appearance or behavior. But she’d come to enjoy making people wonder.

"Ask him."

He must be a reaver. That tunic, for instance.

"Could be a knock-off. Besides, you can’t tell a reaver by looking. They’re human, but with skills."

Would you date a reaver?

Depends on his skills.

"Eee, I can’t believe you said that!"

Kimiko wondered what these girls would think if they knew how totally unromantic reaver marriages usually were. It was hard to get excited about pedigree reports, progeny projections, and the filing of a dozen or more spousal applications. Often for a person you’d never met.

As one of three unmatched daughters, she knew more than enough about the process.

Even though looks and personality were of secondary consideration, Kimiko’s mother was forever comparing her to her older sister. Noriko was gentle and lovely and petite, just like Mama had been, back when she caught their father’s eye.

Fourteen-year-old Sakiko was promisingly pretty, if a bit taller than average. But Kimiko’s younger sister would never be mistaken for a boy. Not when her straight black hair hung like a satin curtain almost to her knees.

Kimiko was tall and flat-chested, and she kept her hair cropped. Reaver attire was unisex, and the freedom it offered only encouraged an unladylike stride. Her boots, which were standard issue for the Ingress Academy uniform, made her big feet look even bigger. Having grown up in a very normal human community, Kimiko knew she held exactly zero feminine appeal. But as a slightly-too-pretty boy, she turned heads.

Most of the time, she ignored the whispers, giggles, and long looks. But once in a while, when the circumstances fit, she was silly in her own way. Kimiko understood the elation of being noticed. She so rarely was.

So as the train neared her stop, she tucked her chin, making it even harder for her admirers to catch on. The hum of the subway changed pitch, and an automated voice announced Kikusawa’s station. Kimiko gathered up her shopping bags and, gazing up through the fringe of her bangs, caught the girls watching.

She smirked, then strode out, adding some swagger to her step. Her harmless little performance was rewarded by gasps, giggles, and bright smiles.

Curious if the wolf had seen, Kimiko continued along the side of the train to the back window. He was there, grinning now, all fang and fraternity. And he bid her farewell in a way that roughly translated you’ve made me glad our paths crossed.

Kimiko returned the gesture, waved goodbye in a completely human way, then mounted the stairs to street level with even more spring in her step than usual.

. . .

Home for Kimiko was Kikusawa, an aging neighborhood within Keishi, full of small shops and nosy neighbors. Faded paint, rusted metal, curling advertisements tacked to walls. She supposed Kikusawa was a little on the shabby side, but she preferred to focus on the good parts. Vivid bins of satsuma oranges at the grocers. The tempting sizzle of croquettes, served piping hot in paper sleeves. Sticky-sweet burned sugar smells coming from the tea shop that grilled their dango out front to lure in customers.

People lived over shops or behind businesses. Poky alleys hid the entrances to restaurants, the barber, a hardware store, and the candy shop Kimiko had frequented since she could walk. She hoped this part of the city—her part—would never change. Everyone bought their produce from the Nakamura’s and their fish from Satoh and Sons. The Smiling Cat was famous for its western-style lunch menu, and The House of the Noble Chrysanthemum sold traditional sweets.

It was a matter of pride to shop locally, which made Kimiko self-conscious about her collection of bags. But some things couldn’t be bought in Kikusawa.

Kimi-chan, called Mrs. Miura, who was sprinkling salt on the public bath house’s front step. Wrinkles might hide the little old woman’s eyes, but she never missed a thing. Adding to your collection?

Yes, Auntie. Kimiko hurried to her side and held out one of the bags. I found these two stations over. Limited editions for the New Year.

Mrs. Miura pawed gently through the bag, humming and clucking. I used to like these when I was a girl. My father worked for Junzi, you know.

She knew that, of course. Mrs. Miura had told her the story dozens of times. The local chocolate-maker was famous throughout Japan for the superior quality of their sweets and for the artistry in their packaging. My grandfather used to buy them for me.

I used to play with Miyabe-kun. She lifted one of the squat chocolate bars, foil wrapped, with a heavy paper sleeve adorned with plum blossoms. He always had a sweet tooth.

Me, too. Would you like that one, Auntie?

No, no, dear. Mrs. Miura returned the chocolate to her bag. Didn’t you go a long way for these? Only bring your book down sometime soon.

As soon as I add these, Kimiko promised.

She’d been collecting labels from Junzi chocolate bars since grade school, when she’d first realized what limited edition meant. Her grandfather had helped her find them, buy them, and organize them. And he’d never left Keishi without bringing home Junzi chocolate bars exclusive to other prefectures.

Kimiko missed him terribly.

But her usual trick mostly worked. Focus on the good parts, like the tradition he had started and she would carry on. Not out of duty, but for love.

With a parting wave for Mrs. Miura, Kimiko continued homeward. Theirs was a tight-knit community, mostly overlooked by outsiders and ruled by the Kikusawa Business Association and the Ladies Neighborhood Improvement Committee. They had their own schools—preschool through middle—and a community center where folks gathered to play shogi, mahjong, or table tennis. Kimiko passed the pharmacy, a twenty-four hour convenience store, and old Mr. Ryota’s steamy oden cart.

Miyabe-kun!

Kimiko waved cheerily at Mr. Fujiwara, who owned the butcher shop. The deep-voiced man with his craggy features and bloody apron used to frighten her when she was small. But there was a good nature behind his gruff way of speaking.

He beckoned her over to the window at the front of his shop and its brightly-lit glass case. Making a big show of looking both ways, he passed her a steamed bun.

Are you sure? she asked. The glossy white bread was hot against her palm.

Mr. Fujiwara pointed knowingly at the bags looped over her arms. Sweets aren’t strength, and you’ll be needing yours.

Thank you! Kimiko broke the bun in half, releasing a fragrant cloud of steam. Will we see you up top tonight?

The man, who had gone to school with her mother, patted his muscular bicep. You can count on me and my boys! These are the times when friends and neighbors rally together!

Until later. Kimiko waved and called, Thank you, again!

Many of the shops had closed up early. No doubt they were already hard at work, helping with the finishing touches for tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve festivities.

She’d polished off the last of the pork bun by the time she reached the pair of ancient cherry trees that marked the turning to the elementary school. Then a covered bus stop. Beyond was a steep, forested slope, thick with evergreens. Nestled beneath the overhanging boughs was a long, narrow stairway, its foot framed by a distinctive red arch and a pair of crouching stone dragons.

Home for Kimiko Miyabe was Kikusawa, but especially Kikusawa Shrine. Because the Miyabe family had always lived on the outermost edge of the In-between, serving the human community as shrinekeepers.

FOUR

Kikusawa Shrine

Are you waiting for me? Kimiko called.

Not particularly. But welcome home, anyhow.

Her younger sister was sitting on the third step from the bottom, a round cushion protecting her posterior from frigid stone. The full legs of her red hakama billowed above the neat set of her feet, and her long hair pooled artfully at her side. She made a lovely picture. And knew it.

It was Kimiko’s private opinion that her sister only exerted herself if a minimum of three reasons hung in the balance. Like a strategy quota.

Sakiko took in her appearance with a sweeping gaze. Your priorities are as baffling as ever.

Kimiko hunched her shoulders. Daddy said I could go.

"I’m not sure we should be relying on his priorities, either. Her sister’s chin lifted. You need to make the best possible impression the day after tomorrow. Our future depends on it."

One year at New Saga High School isn’t going to add any polish to our pedigree.

No, but you’ll be meeting important people. Sakiko shook a finger at her. Connections lead to contracts!

While she didn’t necessarily share her sister’s ambitious brand of optimism, Kimiko couldn’t deny that New Saga represented a unique chance. All members of the Kikusawa branch of the Miyabe family were reavers in good standing, but their numbers and ranking had diminished over the generations.

The only way to bring up the quality of their pedigree was through marriage. But reavers from the best families didn’t apply for lackluster girls. And the daughters of Kikusawa Shrine had few chances to make the kinds of connections that might improve their circumstances.

That was mostly their mother’s doing.

Although Sakiko had a point about their father’s priorities.

Mama was a local girl—not a reaver—but Daddy had brought her into the family. His bride remained blissfully ignorant of the In-between until Noriko was of the usual age to enroll at Ingress. Then came an almighty falling out and an intensely awkward coming out. But Kikuko Miyabe flat-out refused to uphold reaver tradition and send her children away.

People would have talked.

So Noriko, Kimiko, and Sakiko had attended the neighborhood kindergarten, primary, and middle schools. On the condition that they forgo any extracurricular clubs in favor of reaver training at home.

Until her entrance exam for Ingress Academy two years ago, Kimiko’s way of life was barely distinguishable from that of any other girl in Kikusawa. At least outwardly. Because those extra lessons at home had brought a covert stream of intriguing tutors. At the beginning, Kimiko hadn’t understood that many of these people weren’t human.

One of her earliest memories was of a smooth face and

Reviews for Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal

[anaelleg-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

4 stars

Don't get me wrong, I loved that book as much as the first one in terms of the universe that's created. There are so many people though that it's sometimes hard to keep track of everyone. Some kind of family trees would be most welcomed. I mean, the Suuzu is the twentieth son of his family, for God's sake. I'm counting my blessings we got acquainted with only one of his siblings, because I already have so much to remember with all the other different characters.

I love multiple-POVs books because they treat us to the minds and doings of different characters, it's like having multiple stories at once. It's also quite rare that I come upon such a book so I'm happy about that. All of these POVs allowed us to see different aspects of their world and sub-stories as well, which would be a great thing if it wasn't a bit butchered. I thoroughly enjoyed all of them in the end, but the book left me hanging with too many questions which I'm not sure I'll have answers too, seeing how the next book seems to deal with different characters. I want to know more about Tenma's gift and true nature, about what really happened with Anna, about the fox and dragon trying to kidnap people (because it wasn't enough to have one rogue Amaranthine kidnapping people as a background story, another one was added to the mix), about the 10 kisses Kimiko still has to give, and most of all about Akira and Suuzu.

I would have loved to know more about all of thoses, and not to be left hanging. Anyhow, I'll still very much like to read the next book, of that I'm sure (and I'll hope that by then I won't have forgotten everyone).

[kmartin802_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Kimiko Miyabe is from a family of reavers who manage the Kikusawa Shrine. She is the middle daughter in her family. When she gets a chance to attend the New Saga High School with Amaranthines and other humans, she is eager to learn more and her family, especially her mother, is eager for the opportunity to form connections. The students are divided into triads containing one Amaranthine, one reaver, and one human. Kimiko's new triad partners are Suuku, a phoenix, and Akira, a human - both characters familiar to readers of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox.Also a part of the class is Eloquence Starmark, whose father in one of the Five. Quen is reluctant to join the class because he is older than most of the other Amaranthine class members and has responsibilities to his clan. He'll also miss his daily closeness with his little crosser - hybrid - brother Ever. Tenma Subaru is a human who was encouraged to apply by his father who is also looking for new connections. Tenma was fascinated when the Emergence happened nearly four years earlier but he is finding actual close contact with the Amaranthine frightening. He is saved from a panic attack when Quen offers him a sigil of protection and agrees to form a triad with him. Their third is Isla Ward who is twelve and already a brilliant reaver.This school year will be a learning experience for all of these characters because there is a secret threat that is threatening the fragile peace between the Amaranthine and the humans in Japan. And each of the characters will grow and change because of contact with each of the others. This change is especially true when Kimiko accidentally proposes to Quen. Gladly accepted by Quen's family, Kimiko has to quickly learn what it means to court a member of the dog clan. Meanwhile, she is concerned that she will never satisfy her mother who wishes her to marry another, stronger reaver to improve the status of their family. I loved the way Quen and Kimiko get to know each other and fall in love. I enjoyed the rich, creative worldbuilding in this story. I also liked getting to know more about some of the characters from Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox as they interacted with characters in this story. While the main plot of this story is resolved, there are still questions unanswered and problems unsolved which makes me eager for the next book set in this world.